Tags » Prose

swing of life

the only way i know how to describe it is like this: i am on the swing of life, pumping mg legs forward and slinging them back with every passing moment. 164 more words

Prose

The Handmaid's Tale Tutorial Sessions

Hello folks,

As discussed, after the holidays, each of you will lead a tutorial style mini lesson, lasting approximately twenty minutes, and based on The Handmaid’s Tale. 74 more words

the footpad ... The war of the voice (the shallow sea) continued ...

Fidget stared intently at the camp from the sidestreet bar on the edge of the capital of the world of the book “A great imbalance if i don’t say so myself my good friend master Twitch a great imbalance … all these folk were definitely dead last time i saw them killing each other on the world of Ed’en” … Twitch leered “well our mission is to find out why they’re turning up here and Glitch … Fidget where’s Glitch gone ?” … Fidget turned round and placed the book of rum down on the bar “I thought he was with you ?” … Glitch tip toed past another tent a glint in his eye and knelt down and gently pulled a dark looking sword out from underneath the tent flaps “My my what a big sword you are …. 131 more words

Poem

the king's corner 

we bonded over card games. you took me out of my box on your third shelf,

next to the books you never read and football trophies from your glory days that have already passed… 232 more words

Poem

Record lows prose, mid-December blues

I think the iPod gave up the ghost tonight. Outside after dark in the garden beds peeing how quiet and cold, so dry and cold, it’s like every individual hair in my nose feels it and quivers, it’s like all the plants do the same and their feathery little lamb ears like frost crystals or distant stars or planets how they sigh with the cold and the dark, the plants, the trees stripped back and how I relate to them hanging on and trembling on the cusp, how we may not make it through, how the look that gives us I like.

Postaday

The Language of the Stars Doesn't look good on paper ...

Had a poem published as it’s own pretty, little entity. Treat yourself, copies are £2: copyrightaka.tumblr.com

Might be in some bookshops somewhere but don’t know where yet xxx

Writing

Trapped

Jarring Orange

Amidst shrieks and wailings, Raghav opened his eyes to look up at weird plasticky tentacles.

He could not understand what it was because he was all of 4 months old again. 396 more words

Literature